


entire galaxies

by silentstreets



Category: The Song of Achilles, The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Fluff, M/M, idk its cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3510650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentstreets/pseuds/silentstreets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i haven't written properly in a while i hope this is okay. also it's not very long sorry.</p>
    </blockquote>





	entire galaxies

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written properly in a while i hope this is okay. also it's not very long sorry.

I hear Achilles before I see him, as always. He bursts into my dorm without knocking, without pausing in the doorway. He calls “I hope you’re decent!” from the hallway, and then he’s inside.

"Hey, hey! What’s going on?" Words come easily for me around Achilles, unlike others. Usually, my cheeks redden and the words freeze in my throat, trapped.

He beams, then leaps towards me, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. His golden curls tickle my cheek as I hug him back. I can feel the bones of his shoulders through his shirt, the lean muscles of his arms. Achilles steps back, his hands resting on my shoulders, mine on his waist. He’s grinning so wide, so euphorically, that he can’t get a single word out.

"Okay, you’re gonna have to tell me what’s going on eventually," I tell him. The light from my window falls on his face, making his eyes brighter, his hair more golden, his freckles more prominent. I lean forward and kiss his nose, then rest my forehead against his.

"Nothing. Nothing is happening. I’m just happy to see you. I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve actually vern away for two days, but, judging by the state of your room-" he points to the stacks of books on my desk and the half eaten sandwiches beside my bed, "I doubt you noticed anything. I missed you."

He closes the space between our bodies, already a mere whisper apart, and I reach up towards him to kiss him, but he tucks his thumb under my chin and presses his lips against my forehead. My eyes slide shut.

"I missed this," he says softly.

He kisses me again, each of my eyelids.

_This_ (my nose, my left cheek, my right),

_and this_ (my jaw, my chin, the hollow of my throat),

_and this_ (my neck, my collarbone, my shoulder. My lips).

I sink into his arms, and we stumble backwards towards the bed, where we lie, our limbs and fingers and lips intertwined. My eyes still shut, my nose against his.

"Open your eyes," he tells me.

I shake my head in response, a movement so small that only someone with his lips against mine, his hands in my hair, would notice.

"Patroclus."

_Pa-tro-clus_.

Like pebbles dropping into water: _one, two, three_.

I open my eyes. His hand rests on my hip, and my breathing makes my chest rise and fall rapidly against his. In the minuscule space between us, Achilles runs his hand up my chest, under my shirt. My breath catches in my throat. I want to respond somehow, do something with my hands, but Achilles’ touch renders me helpless. I can feel his breath on my lips, and it smells of fruit. Of course, he’s probably been eating figs - his favourite.

He kisses me again, and the air is sucked out of me. I feel empty, airless. I feel like -

(a drowning man struggling for air)

(except in the best possible way).

My hand moves up to his face, caressing his cheekbones and stroking his hair, and Achilles sighs, the sound reverberating against my lips.

His mouth travels down my chin, my neck, my chest. He lingers there, then continues down my torso. His fingers trace shapes on my skin, making me shiver and grasp at the sheets. He touches where he knows I will respond with energy. 

"Achilles," I sigh. The word, his name, blows through me like a gust of wind in a valley.

"Patroclus," he says, breathing like he's coming up for air. His face appears on the pillow next to me. 

"How are you?" He asks, smiling coyly. 

"I'm good. Go back to what you were doing, thanks." I'm pissed off, or whatever I could possibly be in this haze, that Achilles decided to make small talk seconds away from what would have been the blowjob of a lifetime. 

"You know you love me."

"Not when you do this... Please, Achilles," I mumble. 

"Oh... whatever. Come here," he says, resting his hand on my cheek and kissing me, hard. He rolls over so he's hovering on top of me, his chest touching mine. His curls fall around his face, framing his features. He's grinning at me, his stupid eyes full of stupid happiness and his stupid mouth begging me to kiss him (stupid). I stroke his cheekbones with my fingers and his eyes flutter shut.

I… I do not even begin to understand how Achilles could be so…

So.

He is entire galaxies.


End file.
